


language of blood

by icemachine



Series: doom patrol daily drabbles [13]
Category: Doom Patrol (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Basically PWP, F/F, Vampires
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-25
Updated: 2019-08-25
Packaged: 2020-09-26 01:23:18
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,298
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20381371
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/icemachine/pseuds/icemachine
Summary: They are on Jane’s bed, now, Rita on top of her, Rita holding her -- touching her, everywhere --“Bite me,” she breathes. After the words leave her mouth, Rita recoils.





	language of blood

_ Sometime in the 1980s, Niles realized that Jane was aging. _

_ Slowly. At a delayed pace, but she was aging. He never knew exactly how old she was; it wasn't on any of the paperwork, she never offered up the information. He knew that she wasn't always the host of the alters; there had been someone else, said Baby Doll once, but she--- _

_ But Jane came along and replaced her. Niles assumed that she had forgotten her age, and that perhaps it was for the best. He knew the barebones of her past, he knew about most of the alters. He did not, however, realize that she was still showing signs of continued aging until he saw that her skin was thinning out, slow, littered lightly with liver spots. She often complained about a pain in the middle of her back. _

_ He abandoned the Doom Patrol because of their inability to reach immortality, but he fought hard to understand Jane. It would have been... irresponsible, to abandon her too, without first trying alternative methods. _

_ His last resort was monstrous. Back to the ANT Farm. He had "borrowed" a specific individual with --- several difficulties that matched textbook vampirism. They had been there since before the mission changed; no force was needed. _

_ Jane slept for several days, after the bite. He framed it as an accident, said that he found Jane unconscious in the street with two holes in her wrist. _

_ Rita was the one who took care of her as she rested. Rita, inexplicably, was the one who brought her back to whatever resemblance of humanity she had left. _

\--

"Jane, I know you're in there."

"So what, Rita?" Jane spits. She throws herself onto her bed. Violent. It's too fucking early. "You gonna come in and force me out to the team meeting?"

"It's not--"

"Fuck off. Tell Vic to stop waking everyone up at seven in the fucking morning."

"There's no team meeting," Rita says. Her words are flat, serious. Usually she enunciates too much, keeps the facade of playing a character in her voice despite having been away from cameras for several years. Jane has never heard Rita with a flat affect.

For a moment, it's concerning.

"What?"

"I brought you breakfast. You can thank Larry. I don't know how or where he got it, but he says it's fresh from a pig."

"Great. Put it through the slot and go away."

“Jane,” she says, continually firm. “I just want to talk to you about something.”

“I don’t want to talk to you. I’m going back to sleep.”

The sound of skin melting. A sharp sigh. “I’m not going away.”

Jane considers her options; talking to her seems like the easiest solution, rip off the bandaid and listen to whatever ridiculous thing she’s thinking about, tell her to go away, go back to sleep. It’s - unfortunate. She hates it, but it’s the only way through this situation. She knows Rita, and Rita is persistent. If she doesn’t let Rita in, Rita will let herself in by liquidizing and forcing herself through the fucking door slot.

Jane pushes off of her bed, moves fast to the door. That’s the one good thing about being a vampire; you can move quickly, everything around you slows down, the world is just so _ quick. _ She rolls her eyes, pulls it open with a shrugging shoulder. “ _ What? _”

Rita attempts to pass Jane, invite herself into the room — Jane grabs her wrist, holds her back but closer - too close - she can feel Rita’s breath against her cold skin, if she was still able to breathe she’d be gasping—-

“I didn’t say you could come in.”

“I—”

She won’t look at Jane. Her eyes are fastened to the ground, half of her face is dissolving; for some reason, Jane doesn’t want to let go, can’t let go, feels mesmerized, _ oh. _Oh. Is this—

“I just wanted to tell you that, um. That I’ve been having these—”

Rita stops. She can’t get the words out. Jane —

Jane—

Jane thinks she knows—

Rita still won’t look at her. She loosens her grip. “What is it?” Softer now, soft. Too soft. Her voice is too vulnerable.

“Nevermind.”

“Rita, you can say it.”

Her mouth opens and shuts. Two times, three times & then her eyes move _ slowly _ up to Jane’s -- like she’s thinking about her next move, Jane can see her mind working and calculating -- it feels like Rita _ wants _something—

and—

Now Rita is pulling her _ close, _closer. Jane can’t - can’t let go, can’t push her away. She doesn’t want to push Rita away. Why? Why does she share the want?

Rita’s kiss is inevitable. It feels warm - Rita’s body against hers, a warmth she hasn’t felt since the bite. Rita against Jane, and it’s right, she _ hates _Rita for making her feel this, a kind of comfort that she hasn’t known - someone wanting her in the right way—

Rita pulls back. Sudden. “I’m sorry. I need to go.”

“Wait,” Jane says, despite every harsh feeling - despite everything she has ever known. “Come in.”

Rita obeys. Her face says _ shock, _her body brushes against Jane’s arm, desire.

“What the hell was that?” Jane asks, but she’s cornering Rita against the wall. Slowly she walks forward, slowly Rita walks backwards, until her back is against the surface and they’re kissing again. There is no love here, yet, but there is passion. There is craving, there are two people who haven’t touched in this way for - too long. For Rita, it has been decades. The last person she shared intimacy with violated her mind, her trust.

For Jane—

Jane doesn’t remember it ever feeling this good.

It is a hunger, but a positive hunger.

They are on Jane’s bed, now, Rita on top of her, Rita holding her -- touching her, everywhere -- 

“_ Bite me, _” she breathes. After the words leave her mouth, Rita recoils. She wasn’t supposed to say that.

“What?”

“Nevermind,” Rita says. “I didn’t mean it.”

She pulls herself away from Jane, sits turned away from her - unable to look, again - and hides herself.

“Do you… think about me biting you?” Jane asks. She places a hand - gentle - on Rita’s shoulder, _ why _ is she being gentle, what has gotten into her, they’re not meant for this…

“Sometimes,” Rita admits.

“Do you think about it when you—”

“_ Don’t _finish that sentence.”

“So you do.”

“I won’t confirm anything.”

There’s silence, there’s too much silence between them. Jane thought about this, on occasion. What it would be like, with Rita, if they ever got so upset with each other that they just—

“I can, if you want me to,” Jane says, finally. “I can control myself. I’ve never gone all the way before. It’s not gonna hurt you.”

“And if I… can’t control myself? What if _ I _ hurt _ you _?”

“I can handle you, Rita.”

_ I can handle you, Rita. _

Rita turns back to her. Jane takes this an invitation.

She pushes Rita back onto the bed, climbs on top of her with only a hint of roughness, kisses her jaw, collarbone—

she slips her hand underneath Rita’s dress, circling—

Jane kisses into Rita’s neck, listens to Rita’s noises - moans, sharp breaths - and—

and she—

Rita _ screams _ when Jane bites down, as she increases the pace of her fingers rubbing against Rita, against Rita, and _ oh, _Rita tastes so good—

she trusts Jane enough to let her do this, she _ trusts Jane _ & now Jane is drinking her up, fucking her with a power she shouldn’t have, she can think about trust later, she can think about the implications of trust _ after this is over. _

For now, she runs her tongue over Rita’s neck, desperate. For now, she controls herself. 

For now, she feels something she’s felt before. It’s terrifying. Change always is. 

  
  
  
  
  
  
  


**Author's Note:**

> yeah.


End file.
